


Blue lips, blue veins

by TurtlesAreWeird



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: A Lot of People - Freeform, Death, Like, M/M, have fun, inspired by the song blue lips, it's short as shit, people die, so here you go, turns out I can't write happy things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:00:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtlesAreWeird/pseuds/TurtlesAreWeird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gang!Au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue lips, blue veins

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't proof read this.

Blue lips, blue veins  
inspired by the song blue lips by Regina Spektor

He stumbled into his apartment, covered in blood, both his own and not. He was numb, far past the point of being broken. He’d passed that point when they’d had him carry his best friend’s bullet-ridden body to the edge of a pier.  
Was this all that was left for him? Was this violence, this unforgiving life, was this all that he could have?  
As he closed his door and slumped against it, sliding to floor, his mind bright with memories brought forward by grief.

Delirious’ laugh when they first met, he’d stood there awkwardly until the bright laughter bubbled up from the other man’s chest.   
Later that same day, Tyler had told him that the man had never warmed up to anyone so quickly before.  
Delirious’ look of concentration through his mask as Evan watched him clean each of his guns; carefully, methodically.  
Delirious’ grin that split his face when he finally took off that same mask in front of him, accentuated by the bright clown makeup.

He shook his head. It wouldn’t do any good to remember these things now. But no matter how much he tried to distract himself, his mind just kept going back to blue. 

Blue eyes, blue jacket, big heart, big laugh, blue lips. Blue veins showing through the palour of death, blue jacket stained with red, bleeding into purple, bleeding out. Gunshot wound, hitching breaths, blue eyes glazed, the blue of the sea. 

He rose slowly, he had to go to bed, he had to sleep this off, he’d promised Delirious he’d stay away from liquor if this’d ever happen. Every step towards his bedroom felt like he was carrying another person’s weight, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to walk without feeling Delirious’ limp body in his arms. He fell onto his bed and lay there until restless, nightmare filled sleep caught him.

The next morning he woke, no smile, just hard eyes and thin lips. He got dressed and packed what he would need. As soon as he stepped out of his apartment he could feel the fear. He walked slowly, not paying much attention as people ran. One man stepped in front of him, as if to stop him, but all Evan did was pull his pistol and shoot the man squarely in the chest, barely pausing at all.  
The man’s blood was red. 

He needed blue. He needed his Delirious, his Jonathan, he needed his world back. His world was blue, but now as he continued walking, everything seemed to be red, and he wondered why none of the people bled blue.

He made his way up to the penthouse where his boss lived, knowing the way by heart, making this trip with Delirious so many times that everything reminded him of the man. 

What was left for him? What was left for him but this world of red he’d created? 

More images of his best friend and lover flashed through his mind as he burst into the penthouse, paying no mind to the ache he felt in his right leg from kicking in the door.

Tyler came running, blanching when he saw him, and Evan and his dead eyes barely hesitated before unloading a full mag into one of his closer friends. 

Then Marcel. And Brian. And Mini. He’d knelt sobbing into his boyfriend’s corpse before Evan gave him a single shot in the head, and he watched as his body fell onto his lover’s and their red mixed. He shot them all, not caring not listening to their pleas, though Brock’s choked voice had made him realize the tears in his eyes.

He’d done this. He was the reason why Delirious was red in the ocean. The man had asked, months back, if Evan would ever want to leave this life. He’d said no, and they’d gotten sucked further and further in until they were trapped, and he just now realized that they had been ever since they’d first picked up one of the high man’s guns. 

He approached the man’s office. Entering he saw that the man was sat at his desk, a single pistol twirling gently in his hands. 

He dropped each of his guns one by one, until he was left holding only Delirious’s favorite, which he lifted, aimed, and shot.

He looked down as the wound in his stomach and his last thought before fading into dark was the irony of the fact that he, too, was red.

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at writing happy things, and I needed a break from another fic I'm writing (3000 words in guys) so here's this. I know it's short, but I wrote it in like 30 minutes, okay? I'm not a fast writer.


End file.
